


White Picket Fence

by Attorney C (arh581958)



Series: #MarveyWeek [15]
Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Dad!Harvey, Dad!mike, Day4 - Time Machine, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Harvey-centric, M/M, Marvey as parents, Modern family - Freeform, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Weird Narrator, future!fic, marveyweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-21 22:35:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7407853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arh581958/pseuds/Attorney%20C
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harvey wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar place, with a pair of distinctly blue eyes staring up at him—almost exactly like Mike but isn't Mike. Eyes which hold a childish innocence and twinkling with defiance. </p><p>He feels like he’s been transported to another dimension all together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Picket Fence

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ["Marvey Appreciation Week"](http://arh581958.tumblr.com/post/144878259395/fuckyeahmarvey-marvey-appreciation-week-july), Day 4 - _Time Machine_.
> 
> Thank you to the awesome, Sam, for beta reading this!

_“I want you to live your life, move on, and forget about me—please, I can’t—I can’t let you bring yourself down for this. Okay? Get busy living.”_

_Then, Mike walked away._

***

Something heavy weighs down his chest—literally. Harvey wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, with two unfamiliar lumps on his torso. Twins, his mind supplies, but not the kinky kind. The pair shifts and, _oh_ , definitely not the kinky kind because two pair of distinctly blue eyes stare up at him in intensely—so blue that Harvey can only remember seeing them once before on—

“Mike,” he says aloud.

“Daddy’s at work,” one says.

“We’re hungry,” says the other.

They both look like Mike—almost exactly _like_ Mike, as if someone cloned him and genetically altered him to make the clones younger. They have the same curious blue eyes that twinkle in defiance, rounded cheeks that will no doubt grow sharper with age, and incredibly expressive eyebrows.

Harvey feels like he’s been transported to another dimension all together.

“Papa!” The twins beam at exactly the same time. If it isn’t for the identical tugs on both arms, Harvey would have thought that he’s merely seeing double the trouble. Clearly, he isn’t. They tug him up to sit, bracketing him on either sides.

“Waffles!” The one on his right side says, and the one on his left adds, “with bacon.”

“Extra-crispy bacon!” They say in unison.

“Don’t you monsters have class or something?” The endearment falls from his lips automatically. A glance at the clock tells him that it’s nine in the morning, and he’s got a feeling that he already knows the answer before they say it.

“It’s Saturday!” The one on his left pipes up, and the one on his right finishes the thought, “There’s no school no Saturdays.”

Harvey sighs in defeat. He takes a moment to examine all the clues around the room to help him decipher the situation. There’s a thin band of skin on his left finger that’s lighter than the rest; meaning, he’s married. Based from the twin’s earlier reactions, he was married to a man who may or may not be named “Mike”, and he doesn’t know if he wants it to be _his_ Mike.

He cannot decipher which makes his stomach churn more— _his_ Mike, Michael James Ross ,the genius with shit luck in life, being his husband, or some other guy who happens to share the same name. _How_ his stomach churns is also something that he cannot answer.

Harvey wishes, _desperately_ , for the twin’s daddy to be _his_ Mike.

“Papa?” They look at him with obvious confusion.

“Sorry.” He gives them an apologetic smile. “Papa had a long night. Come on, let’s go make you monsters some food before you start eating me.”

They giggle before making a mad dash out of the door. Harvey runs after them through the quaint zig-zag of the house. He has no choice because he didn’t want to get lost inside his own house. Damnit. His condo didn’t have the problem of having multiple floors to get lost in.

The house is huge.

Something that he definitely wouldn’t chose for only himself, but it feels like he didn’t make the choice alone. It’s the right one though judging from the way the walls are lined with picture of _them_ —of the family in full color high definition glory with every single frame nothing short of amazing. Him, the twins, a dog, and _Mike_ smiling happily at the camera.

It feels like a dream— _his dream_.

Furious typing catches his attention. By furious, he means _furious_ with the speed of light that threatens to break both the keyboard and the table. Fingers stomp angrily on the keys, followed shortly by impatient clicking and an angry voice that he’d recognize anywhere… but in French.

There’s a bang and a clash. Harvey peaks in just in time to see Mike’s hand still glued to the handset.

“You speak French.” He says without thinking, making Mike whip around with wide eyes. God, he’s gorgeous—older but still as gorgeous as the day he walked into that prison cell and walked out of Harvey’s life.

Mike gives him a dull look. _Are you kidding me_ ? His eyebrows ask. “Yeah… I thought the whole _surprise your husband in Paris_ made that perfectly clear.”

“I, uhm… I just… I didn’t know when you learned.”

“Harvey, are you alright?” Mike peers at him carefully. “I took classes, remember? Near the Met? Are you sure you’re alright? We’ve had this conversation before…”

If this Mike is really _his_ Mike then there wouldn’t be any use lying—too much. “Long night.” Technically, it’s a white lie but it’s close enough to the truth that Mike won’t be able to read into it. “I might be a little slow on the uptake—” he bites his lips an dares admit it, “—old age and all, can’t really help the gaps.”

Mike’s whole face softens. He rises from his chair and steps into Harvey’s space in a heartbeat, wrapping his long arms around Harvey’s shoulders in open affection. “Nah, nothing’s too old about you Harvey.” A thigh brushes over Harvey’s groin through his sweats, and Mike’s still smiling. “Did the kids wake you?”

Harvey nods.

Mike curses under his breath and sighs. “I never get them to listen to me. I told them not to wake you.”

“They were hungry.” Harvey pipes up without thinking. An innate _need_ to protect kids he’s barely even met wells up in his chest. It’s like he knows them.

Mike noses at his jaw with a soft hum. “I bet they asked for waffles. C’mon then, we better hurry. The last time those little monsters tried to make us breakfast in bed, we had to fumigate the kitchen. I was sneezing at random flour pockets for weeks and Russel had to sleep in the kennel!”

Before he can stop himself, he adds, “Don’t I get a good morning kiss?”

Mike’s smile is blinding when he looks back. He tugs on Harvey by the drawstring of his pants and pulls their hips flush together. Arms wrap over his head and around his shoulder. Mike leans into the small cocoon of heat made by their bodies, and kisses Harvey with unabashed affection. There’s familiarity to it.

Harvey feels it in his core. They’ve done it before a hundred, a thousand, and a million times, probably, as if they never left. His hands found their place, a small grove on Mike’s back, feeling it’s made for him, right above the light sleep pants that Mike’s wearing—commando, apparently, from the lack of garter under his fingertips.

Just like in the past, he moves his hand to cup over the round globes of Mike’s ass. Mike moans into the kiss, and Harvey swallows it down. It goes on for an eternity until a loud crash from outside breaks them apart.

“Damnit, Raphael! That better not be the mixer again!” Mike yells, shockingly loud and _like a father_ , surprising Harvey. He clamps his hand over his husband’s shoulder. “Children are the worse cockblocks _ever_. Our children are two-times worse. Why did we ever agree to have them surrogated?”

 _Our children_. “Because we wanted something that was ours.” It’s the right answer by the way that Mike beams at him sheepishly. “Let’s make breakfast. I’m starving.”

He peers one last time at the simple home office, and realizes that it isn’t his.

***

They do that just—make breakfast of waffles and extra-crispy bacon.

Raphael turns out to be the nosier twin, who always gets his older brother into trouble. Harvey knows this now because of the large flour stain on the boy’s dark blue pajama top while Jamiel’s is still clean. He wonders how often either of them mix the twins up. It’s probably a whole lot.

Mike’s got years of practice over him. He works the kids like he used to wrangle other associates on cases, and somehow they work perfectly in-sync to each other’s movements. The twins already have their plates piled with a tall tower of whipped cream, caramel sauce, blue berries and _sprinkles_.  

“Alright, time to serve your patriarchs!” Mike giggled as he flipped opened the waffle-maker lid to two crisply-done golden brown waffles. It’s a duo like their twins and helps make breakfast faster. Harvey turns off the burner and puts the rest of the bacon onto a third plate. They opt for a simpler real-maple--maple syrup and butter, and a jar of peanut butter for Mike.

“Thanks.” He grins, scooping a huge dollop over his waffle.

Harvey grimaces at all that sugar on his family’s breakfast plate. Alternative Harvey really shouldn’t be letting his family eat all that junk food so early in the morning. Right now though, he cannot help but smile fondly while he watches them it—a strange longing balling up at the pit of his stomach.

“Harvey.” A hand on his shoulder jerks him back to reality. Mike’s concerned face is inches away from his. “D’you wanna stay in bed this morning? You said that you had a long day in the office last night.” There’s a teasing tone there telling Harvey that Mike’s talking about sex, but it disappears as quickly as it came. “I can handle the party, you know? It’s not that big of a deal. It’s this afternoon anyway. The skype with Doug and Dave should be done by then.”

He knew there was a reason they let them eat all that much sweets in the morning. “No.” He shakes his head. “It’s fine. I’ve got it. You’ve got work, right? … on a Saturday?” He tacks on the last part with as much incredulousness as he can muster, which is easy given how he’s feeling.

Mike pouts a little at Harvey. Across the table, the twins are giving him the exact same expression. His eyes apologize before he opens his mouth. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just the that we have the first round-table reading next week and I’m just—” He still has the same look on his face. “—so excited. I can’t believe this is happening!”

“Mike, it’s okay. This—” Now, he’s really curious. “—is really important to you.”

Harvey’s weak with that face. How different is this universe from his? Was he in the future? Or is he stuck in a hospital room somewhere dreaming all this up? Because he remembers booze, a lot of booze last night, before he blacked out. He couldn’t be in a coma, could he? He told his brother not to prolong his miserable life if he was a vegetable.

Mike makes a squealing little sound at the back of his throat when he jumps off his seat. “You,” he says saucily with a finger tracing Harvey’s jaw to his ear, “are the best husband I could have ever asked for. Now, I’m going to be a kickass writer-who-signed-a-TV-deal while you be the awesome father to our children.”

At that, twin groans come from the boy’s side of the table. They covered each other’s eyes.

Harvey laughs. He wraps a hand over Mike’s neck to bring the younger man. Their lips meet in a chaste kiss, then Mike’s bound up the stairs to get ready for his skype meeting. Harvey glances back at his kids. _His kids_ , he wraps his mind around. He never doubted that he would have them, but he just didn’t expect that it would be with Mike.

“Alright, what do you monsters want to do today?”

As it turns out, their idea of a _fun way to start their birthday_ is asking their cousins to come over earlier than the rest of their school friends. Since, “there’ll be too many kids later”. They say it like they, themselves, aren’t kids.

Marcus arrives with his family less than an hour later.

“That was fast.” Harvey cocks his eyebrow and lets the family inside. Linda and Dillan walk inside while Marcus carries a little girl on his arm. She’s hiding her face in his neck.

“Oh, Harvey, you say that like this doesn’t always happen on their birthday.” Linda laughs, giving him a kiss on both cheeks. “This _always_ happens on their birthday. I swear, if they aren’t so well-behaved most of the time, I would think you’re spoiling them rotten.”

“Hi Uncle Harvey.”

Dillan’s ten. Meaning, he’s in the awkward getting out of childhood but still secretly wants to be pampered stage. Harvey saves them both the effort by running a hand over his hair and ushering them inside.

“Raphy and Jamie are in their rooms. You know where it is, right?”

Dillan looks expectant at Harvey, then turns to his parents. “Can we use the pool now? Before it gets over crowded with brats who don’t know how to swim?”

“Andrew Dillan Specter, watch your tongue, young man,” Linda reprimands, tongue as sharp as a viper’s.

“But _mom_ ,” he draws out the word, whining. “I’m only saying the truth. Dad says that I shouldn’t lie.”

Marcus comes to the rescue. “I also said that there’s a better way of saying it. Remember, the kids are your cousins’ classmates and friends, so you should be respectful to them too. Okay?”

“Okay…” His shoulders slump. “I’m sorry. Can I go change now?”

“Yes.” Linda and Marcus say in unison. It’s eerily creepy.

“Sophia vomited in the car,” Linda tells Harvey as she rubs her daughter’s back gently. “I’ll put her in the guest room for a while and give you brothers a few minutes to catch-up. You know, complaining about your spouses and all that jazz.” The smile she shares with Marcus says a millions words.

Marcus rolls his eyes. “Yes, I will complain that I want another child while you’re refusing to because it’s, and I quote, harder to maintain your figure, end quote.” She goes in for a jab but stops at the last second seeing as Sophia’s serving as his shield.

“Oh, give me Sophia, and be an asshole somewhere else.”

“Swear jar.” He taunts back. Sophia is transferred to her mother, and they disappear up the stairs. If Harvey has counted it correctly, there’s a spare bedroom upstairs and one down here. He guesses that Marcus’ family has an unofficial room here as well. That’s something that surprises him.

***

With Marcus, Harvey takes his time to venture through the house. It’s got an open floor layout; a living room, a kitchen, a dining room, a family room, and a spare bedroom on the first floor. The family room’s a mix of a quaint library and a second study with a record player in a corner. It must be his, Harvey realizes, recognizing a few more items he has in his old study at the condo. They have a pool—a small square pool in the backyard where there’s lawn chairs.

“It sure is quiet here, isn’t it?” Marcus says, leaning down on one of the lawn chairs. “I’ve been asking Linda to move somewhere like this but we can’t leave the restaurant. This is nice. It’s really nice. I can’t keep telling you how nice this is.”

Harvey hands him a carbonated soda from the backyard bar. “You own one of the oldest Italian restaurants in New York, that’s got to be nice too.” They pop their can open simultaneously. Admit it or not, he actually likes it here better than he ever did on Manhattan. It reminds him of him of their old family home.

“Yeah,” Marcus agrees, “But this is a different kind of nice. Besides, who would have thought that _you_ would end up in the suburbs while I stayed in the city? And, what’s the problem, bro? I can almost hear you thinking.”

“I never thought I get to have this too, you know… I—I thought I lost him. I never thought I’d get him back.”

It’s been a few months since he last saw _his_ Mike, the Mike who walked away from him and cut off ties because he didn’t want to bring that all to prison, the Mike who wanted nothing to do with him, and it wasn’t a fond memory seeing that suit-clad back entering the slammer. He used to love the feeling of someone going inside but not when it was family—his family, his Mike.

2 years.

Mike’s sentenced two years for _fraud_ , going down alone instead of bringing the whole firm with him, going down to save Harvey. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth when he thinks about it. Now, he needs to learn how to swallow that bitter pill and learn to accept it, and move on from it. But before he can do that, he needs to figure out _why_ and _how_ he’s here in the first place.

“But you did.” Marcus gives him a meaningful look. “You did get him back. Harvey, are you sure you’re alright? You don’t seem like you are _you_ . I mean… it’s like you’re not all in there, at least not the Harvey that I know _now_.”

Harvey looks back at him brother in shock. Crow’s feet crinkle at the corners of his eyes. “Damn. When did you get so smart? I can’t remember, Marcus, I can’t remember anything aside from the night I visited him from the country. He pushed me away. He _made_ me leave him.” He chokes on the last few words.

“Well, fuck,” Marcus curses from beside him. The beer soda drops to the ground by their feet, and he places a hand over Harvey’s shoulder. “Hey, hey, don’t do that. Not now. It’s you sons’ birthday. C’mon, man, I’m not built for this. I ain’t got no fancy-shmancy degree. I cook in a kitchen for a living. But maybe you should talk to Mike, yeah? He can get you right in the head.”

“C—can’t.” Harvey shakes his head. “He’s got a skype meeting.”

“Harvey, Mike is your husband, and I’m sure somewhere in your vows you said something about being there for each other through thick and thin. I would know. I was there. Dillan was your ring bearer. So, why don’t I just go get him, huh?”

“Marcus don’t—” he turns around to see his brother’s already gone. “Damnit!” He slumps back against the recliner. It’s a bright and early morning. Three different voices squeal in delight as they run out onto the yard, followed by three successive splashes that can only be from little boys cannon-balling into the water.

“Be careful!” He yells out instinctively but doesn’t bother opening his eyes. Giggling and laughter soon fill up the empty space. It’s music to his ears, the sound of children, reminding him of his own childhood that he can barely remember.

“Honey?”

A shadow looms over Harvey. He instantly knows it’s Mike. “I told Marcus not to get you.”

“Marcus did what any responsible brother would do. I’m glad he called me.” Something cool touches Harvey’s heated skin. A palm. It feels as though this has happened before, familiar. “Sit up and come here. He told me you're having another episode.”

“Episode?” Harvey asks, incredulous, but follows. “I’m having a what?”

The hands over his shoulder stiffen. Mike sighs heavily, and starts rubbing his palms over Harvey’s arms.

“An episode, Harvey. It’s fine. We get through it like we always do.” He kisses Harvey on the cheek. They’re half-reclined on the lounge chair with Mike sitting against the backrest and Harvey sitting between his legs, pressed together chest-to-back in a display of public affection that Harvey normally wouldn’t do except for the privacy of his own home. He wraps his arms around Harvey’s torso and brings the slightly taller man into a hug.

“What is the last thing that you remember?”

“Mike…”

“Just tell me, Harvey, it’ll be easier. I promise.”

Somehow, Harvey believes him.

“A few days after you told me to leave you.” Harvey admits, feeling the sour bile rising up from his chest. “Did that happen? Or am I making it up? I’m not sure anymore. I visited you inside but you told me that you didn’t want us to be an _us_ anymore. You broke it off, Mike.”  

Mike tightens his hold, breath hitching.

“Did I say something wrong?”

Cold wet tears drip down Harvey’s nape. “No,” Mike sobs, “I just… you haven’t gone that far back… in a while. It’s true. That happened.”

Harvey turns around—looks at the man he loves, the man he _married_ —and takes Mike’s face into his hands. “And all this?” He doesn’t have to make a wild gesture to the house, the kids, and the dog. Mike knows. He knows that Mike understands him. “How did we get here?” And, Harvey thinks, that he might never want to leave.

“You came back.” Mike replies after a terse silence, covering Harvey’s hands with his own. “You came back for me.” Then, something changes in his eyes as if Harvey’s going to disappear on him again. He holds on for dear life, gripping Harvey with white knuckles, _clutching_ like it’s the only thing—like Harvey’s the only thing—that mattered.

Harvey feels it resonate within him. Deep within his soul.

“Will you come back for me, Harvey?” It’s a question and a statement and a plea, all in one. “Come back for me.”

Harvey looks into Mike’s eyes and sees blue—endless blue, the deepest blue, bluest of the blue. He cannot look away. He drowns in it, breathes it, loves it the way he loves this man in front of him. Everything shifts. There’s the stomach-flipping pull inside his gut again, and he wants to stay here where he had a family and a life and _Mike_.

 _Come back for me_.

***

Harvey bolts awake in his bedroom in Manhattan, sweaty and shivering, with his heart going a hundred miles per hour. The bed’s too big and too cold to be sleeping alone. The city lights are still too bright. The whole room’s too lonely.

He thinks about the man he left behind the glass wall.

“I promise,” he says, “I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, if you liked or enjoyed this fic, you should know what to do. **Comment/Kudos/Bookmarks** are always appreciated by this author. :) 
> 
> If you have a prompt or an idea, you can [INSPIRE ME](http://arh581958.tumblr.com/submit) on tumblr. Or [TALK TO ME](http://arh581958.tumblr.com/ask)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Old Wounds, New Beginnings](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8369347) by [Attorney C (arh581958)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arh581958/pseuds/Attorney%20C)




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